And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. "Give me your thorough-paced villain. ” “And leave you here alone?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. “Lord!” she said.
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